Preparations of the Apocalypse
by The Great Big World
Summary: While the world burned in nuclear fire, one man was waiting. This is the story of Mr. House before that faithful day of October 23, 2077. All the backstabbing, the politics, and the intrigue of the Old World through the eyes of a cynical man waiting for the end. If there is one thing Mr. House knows, there is always a profit to be made...
1. The Calm Before the Storm

**September, 2065- T minus 11 years, 13 months to Judgment Day**

 **Location: Lucky 38 Casino, Las Vegas**

High above Las Vegas was the Lucky 38 Casino, one of the tallest buildings that were currently standing. Below it, the poor sods that thought they would make a fortune went to the casinos like moths to a flame. Many of the citizens of Las Vegas and those who were smart knew what Las Vegas really was; a trap meant to ensnare foolish newcomers with sights and sounds, just so the whole system would be able to suck up all the money in their pockets and spit out them out crushed and penniless. One such particular fellow who thought of Vegas this way was currently in the tower of the Lucky 38 casino staring out into the great beyond. A man who was 5'7, he had striking eyes that would make even the most arrogant of people stop to think what sort of person they were up against. The smooth face and the stylish hair would have been considered attractive to most women. The business suit that he was wearing would fit right into the gala parties that were currently trying to raise funds for the poor European children in war-torn Europe. After the Middle-Eastern Campaign, the nations of the European Commonwealth torn itself apart into anarchy as the European nation-states fought former allies for the last remaining drops of oil in their borders. Although he wasn't muscular or tall for his age, he had an aura of confidence and power surrounding him. It also didn't help that he was the founder of RobCo, one of the biggest companies of America rivaling Poseidon Oil or General Atomics in influence in the American Government. His name was Robert Edwin House, the sole owner of the Lucky 38 Casino and one of the most powerful men in the world. Well, for now. The reason why he was here was not as cheerful as the tourists inside the Lucky 38 down below...

Robert House was busily walking around the Penthouse Floor of the Lucky 38 Casino. An unopened bottle of Nuka-Cola sat on the desk as he didn't care for food or drink right now as he was considering the options. ' _If my calculations are correct, those madmen will be the doom of us all'_ Robert House thought silently. During the middle of the European Commonwealth-Middle East War, the Commonwealth was desperate enough to launch a couple of nuclear missiles at Middle Eastern Cities. With this in mind, Mr. House had set to work on calculations. It only took a 13 days until all reports, calculations, and predictions pointed to the one thing everyone deemed as mad; Global Nuclear Armageddon. This was the reason why he was anxiously waiting for the board of military informants. ' _Funny to think that just a few years ago, all I cared about was being a playboy with nothing in mind' Mr_. House thought silently. He was interrupted out of his deep thinking by the ding of the elevator. When it opened, 2 men who consisted of the chief members of the Central Intelligence Agency and the US Army walked in nervously to meet Mr. House. In hindsight, it was far too easy to have eyes and ears in the US government. What happened to the social regulations of the past was anyone's guess. With that thought in mind, Mr. House decided it would be kind to greet them first.

"Good afternoon gentlemen. Now, can we start this conversation right now?"

"Are you sure that this is off the record and not being recorded?" One of the officials replied.

"Don't be silly, I don't have any reason to blackmail you at all."

"All right then, we'll tell you everything we have. In return, you give us the "gifts" and nothing goes bad, ok?"

"Deal, now General Chase, what is the situation between us and the Communists in China over those oil supplies they just dug up?" Mr. House asked.

"Those damn commies are being too nosy right now. They're even threatening military action to take those oil supplies. They'll get those oil supplies only from my cold dead hands. Me and my boys will make them bleed for every inch of soil they take."

"Hmmm, this seems to be the consensus of what is about to happen even with those negotiations right now. All right, Director Cruvack, what sort of weaponry does the Chinese have and how many of them are targeting Las Vegas?"

"Well, according to my informants, their weaponry seems to be rugged yet effective at the same time. They include the Ying-Ji Model 2045 class ICBMS, and the more modern Long-Mao Model 2052 class ICBMs. They also have dozens of squadrons consisting of ready at a moment's notice. All in all, my agents have been able to find that 77 missiles of varying class and 3 strike squadrons will be targeted at Las Vegas. It seems they really want to wipe this city off the map."

"Well then, this will be a severe complication." Mr. House replied as he casually dismissed the imminent threat and danger that information could have. "I thank you for your time and here are the gifts that are entailed with this conversation." Said Mr. House as he reached out to carry four suitcases filled with money. As the men took the suitcases, General Chase looked up and said one final request.

"Hey, do you know when Liberty Prime will be ready for battle?" General Chase requested with a fanatical gleam in his eyes.

"Yes, yes. My company and all of its best workers are working hard to finish it." replied Mr. House.

In his mind though, Mr. House was contemplating a few ways that he could strangle General Chase.

 _'We already are in a fuel crisis and you're telling me that you want to build a robot that would consume enough energy to light up Las Vegas for 5 years?! Honestly, I sometimes wonder how we'll actually win the war if we have these "military geniuses" running around gung-ho.'_

In fact, most of his employees that were working on Liberty Prime were actually the programmers and the workers that had worked on Protectron robots. To say their quality was "questionale" was more of an understatement. His more valuable technicians, programmers, and steel makers were busy on another project.

When the two men had left the Lucky 38, Mr. House went to his personal computer and selected a file. With that, the schematics and the designs appeared. On them, a 6 foot single wheeled robot could be seen with all of its weapons drawn and with a screen detailing a stereotypical soldier smoking a cigar.

' _Don't worry, while the rest of the world burns, I'll be ready. No one will be able to stop me from saving the human race. Absolutely nobody…'_


	2. Shadows of War

**November, 2065. T-minus 11 years 12 months to Judgment Day**

 **Location: Fortification Hill, Nevada**

"Alright, sir. The United States Geological Service and the Department of Urban Housing designates this land to the authority of RobCo Industries. Just remember to report any suspicious activity to the local authorities. Have a nice day."

With that, the USGS staff took the signed sheet of paper and drove off back towards Las Vegas. Allan Rogers sighed with relief. A man of 45 years old, Allan had always had a relatively happy life in the 21st century. Although not having the greatest stature, Allan had what many people called a "silver tongue". That was the reason why Robert House had taken an interest of him and had offered a job as the chief lobbyist and representative of RobCo Industries to the US Government. Although the job had its benefits and perks such as a pretty hefty pay check, Allan had always been wary of the man himself. Although he was older than him, Robert House had always given him the creeps. He could turn from a charismatic playboy in one situation to a cold-hearted Machiavellian who would turn on anyone he saw as a threat to his business and lifestyle. His half-brother, Anthony House was one of many examples of what happened to those who crossed him. This case was personal as Anthony had cheated Robert out of his inheritance when Robert's parents died. 5 years ago when he delivered a recorded message to the failing Anthony House, he thought it was impossible that Anthony House could get even more deranged. He was wrong. When Anthony had decided it was a great idea to listen to the message with him listening, the tone Mr. House used could be described as being colder than a nuclear winter.

' _My dear half-brother, you remember me right? The kid who you stole an entire business from? I have bad news to report. It apparently seems that the H &H Tool Company has been slumping in sales. Apparently, the new company Creative Tools has been making quality tools that not only are durable and long-lasting, but are also at significantly lower prices than the competition. In turn, the stocks for H&H have been dropping significantly and it seems that the company has been forced to lay off workers now. It would be a shame if a significantly larger company decided to take control of the many H&H Tool facilities around the country right now. If you need help you can contact me and I'll send all the assistance I can afford right now. I'm a busy man, Anthony, and time is money. So good luck and take care.'_

With that recording, Anthony's face became white and a half-crazed look appeared on his face.

"Get out. Get OUT! GET OUT!" screamed Anthony House as spittle landed in Allan's face.

That was the past. With the present, many of the H&H Tool facilities had been bought out by Creative Tools, the company that may or may not have been a subsidiary company under the control of RobCo Industries. With those thoughts in mind, Allan started to observe the area and start mapping the area. Little grew in this area, except for odd yucca plant or Joshua tree. Although it had a good view of anything in the neighboring areas, there was not really anything of value here at all. Allan never got any clear reason as to why he had bought the land except that it was very important for the future. Allan could describe Mr. House as being many things, but being stupid was not one of them. For all of his faults, Mr. House was always thinking and was always 3 steps ahead of his political opponents. And besides, he was just paid to be the representative. There was no reason to dig into his employer's mind. What Allan didn't know was that he was right about his employer thinking carefully of the future. The next 300 years to be exact….

 **Location: Washington D.C.**

"And therefore, the new Protectrons will be the first line of defense for every American in this new and wonderful time. Thank You!"

As the crowd started to cheer, Mr. House bowed and walked towards the exit. With the new Protectrons about to be available for commercial release, everyone and their mothers would be buying up the new Protectrons.

' _All that money goes to RobCo Industries and most importantly, that should keep the public and most parties away from what I'm doing right now.'_

While Mr. House had been cheerfully talking about the future and the new products of RobCo, his representative had been tasked with negotiating and mapping out the land called Fortification Hill. In his mind, Allan was one of the people he actually had some respect, compared to the thousands of employees he currently had. Most were idiots who begged at him for a promotion or were just too incompetent in his eyes. As though as if that would help them! Allan not only was skilled at his job, but he was also out of the public eye. Most would not see him. That was crucial right now. As these thought raced through his mind, his eyes fell upon the man he was supposed to talk to, the Senator of Nevada, James Tabison. A senator for nearly 15 years, James was perceived by the public to be an honest man with good moral views. In reality, he frequently looked the other way when companies wanted to do business, mainly RobCo and its subsidiary companies. As House walked directly towards him, James's face turned sober which contrasted immensely from the care-free attitude of the conveniently loud party.

 _'Good, that means I still have enough power over most people. Those hippies out on the streets have started to cause trouble for me.'_

As Mr. House greeted James, James started to talk.

"What do you want Mr. House?! I already have passed more bills to allow your company to have more leeway around the country. In return, you directed more of your workforce and jobs to Nevada. I know you have no malicious intentions, but the local businesses have started to protest. Hell, even the state government is finding it suspicious as to how I gave more power to a private company which allows it to maintain not only its own private security force but also level 3 ordinances such as grenade-launchers when the National Guard can't even use grenades. If I don't play my cards right, the sharks will start seeing blood in the water and my position in Senate will not be secure. That won't be good for me or you at all."

"Do not worry Senator Tabison, with the new products that my company will be creating in the next few weeks such as the Mark 3 Protectrons and the new RobCo Terminals coming out, most of the local businesses will be in my debt and those imbeciles in the state legislature will be under my control soon enough. Besides, if the masses are entertained, the state legislature will only be able to do superficial searches without outrage from them. Therefore, you should have no problems at all."

With that explanation, James Tabison relaxed a little but replied with a warning.

"I sure do hope that is what happens. But I'm warning you, if the feds up in the FBI actually know what truly happened, both of us are dead meat."

"I do understand that. Now, let's relax a little bit." replied Mr. House.

' _Fool, I practically have the FBI in my palm. They're giving me all the information I need right now."_

 **Location: Las Vegas, Nevada**

Timmis Waine got out of the taxi cab, paid the driver, and walked out.

"Keep the change."

With that, he walked for several blocks and making sure that no one was following or witnessing him, turned right down into an alley way. A man of 30 years old and Caucasian Descent, no one would have suspected him of working for anyone foreign as he had no reason to do that. This was perfect for any Chinese Spy. When he was 2 years old, his real parents had been killed in a plane crash while on a business trip in Nanjing. With Timmis being an orphan in China, he was quickly snapped up by the Ministry of State Security and had been trained from childhood all the skills of being a spy from writing and speaking 4 languages fluently to being able to kill a man silently with his bare hands. He had entered the country as a teenager and had gone on to become a successful businessman living the "American Dream" with his wife and 2 sons in the suburban area surrounding Las Vegas. But tonight the signal had been with the pass phrase "The Phoenix has risen". Currently, Timmis walked through the garbage and the smell to reach a door. With a knock, he waited. It didn't take along for a set of eyes to be looking at him through the slit.

"What do you want stranger, the bar here is closed right now" a Chinese man said with a strong accent.

"Here in Las Vegas, no bar is closed" replied Timmis.

"Indeed, that is true. Welcome, Agent Waine."

With that, the man opened the door and Timmis walked inside. The bar itself looked like it had seen better days. If anyone walked in, they would immediately be assaulted by the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. Although this was a common site throughout all the bars in Vegas, this bar also seemed to have poor lighting and no air conditioning which made it unbearable for most people. In short, the bar was designed to take attention away from the area. Of course, this was what the Chinese wanted people to see. The Chinese man beckoned Timmis towards the back of the bar. At the back, it seemed like there was nothing suspicious. But, with a special key, the Chinese man opened what was supposed to be the fridge and walked in. Inside, the true purpose of the bar was to act as the base of operations for all Chinese Intelligence in Las Vegas. A dozen people were feverishly working and typing in new information that was coming from all agents. Propaganda posters of Chairman Cheng hung around staring at the two men. The Chinese "Waiter" went to a safe and with a couple of seconds on the safe, took out a record. Timmis Waine took the record and proceeded to put it into the radio. Normally, the record would be playing _Dear Hearts and Gentle People_. But, with the clock striking 8:30, the secret record switched with the music. With it, the record revealed its true message.

"Agent Waine, your country needs you again. We are on the brink of war with those capitalist pigs and when the time comes, we need to cripple as much American industry as possible. While the main attack on Hoover Dam is in the prep stages, I have a different mission for you. You will be assigned to become part of RobCo Industries with your business expertise and obtain schematics, blueprints, and any other designs House may be designing. You will be accompanied by Dragon Squadron to help you in your mission. Once any relevant information has been found, the mission will be a success. Get out of there and lie low while a new mission will be assigned to you. I wish you good luck and all hail Chairman Cheng!"

With that, the record stopped. The Chinese Waiter took the record and proceeded to burn it.

"You have received your orders. Report here if you find yourself in trouble" said the Chinese man.

"I understand" Timmis replied.

In a few hours, Timmis Waine would return to his house to greet his wife and two kids. With that, the rest of the family would go to sleep happily, unaware of the mole that was to be part of the secret attack on America…

 **Author's Note: Thank You for reading the second chapter of this particular Fanfiction. If you came here for action, the Anchorage Front will be opening up soon. :)**

 **If you have criticisms or you enjoyed it. Leave a review so that I can learn from my mistakes and continue to improve.**

 **-The Great Big World**


	3. Diplomacy

**January, 2066. T Minus 10 years 10 months to Judgment Day**

 **Location: Washington D.C., Chinese Embassy**

With the tensions between America and China, it was a miracle that the Chinese Embassy was still operational. Throughout much of the year, most of the

Congressmen had agreed to a bill to liquidate the Chinese embassy. To show a sign of cooperation (show is the key word), President Johnson had kept the embassy

through a veto. Now, the embassy was treated as though as if the spawn of Satan would come out form there. Inside, an argument between two people would seal

the fate of hundreds of thousands of Chinese and American Troops.

"What do you mean that oil can't be bough?! Our people are starving and freezing because we don't have the fuel to help our own citizens!" exclaimed the Chinese Ambassador Hu Wei.

"Senior Ambassador Wei, we truly do understand your people's concerns. However, that oil will only be used for US military and civilian populations" replied US representative Henry King.

"Mr. King, we both know that your country is treading on very thin ice. If you can't give us the energy we need to keep going on, the jurisdiction will be out of **my** hands and into the **military's** hands."

"I'll take your concerns of you and the Chinese people to the State Secretary. In the meantime, wait for our response. Thank you for your patience and have a nice day" replied Henry King.

Watching Ambassador Wei fuming with rage going back to his office, Henry King smiled slightly. The thought of those dirty Commies getting their hands on their oil was sickening. Maybe they needed the oil, but it was their problem, not America's problem. ' _Let them try to help themselves. We can't be the world's police man'_ thought King.

In his office, Hu Wei dialed up the phone he had and when the connection had been established, he uttered the words, "The Canary has just died. I repeat, the Canary in the Coal Mine has just died."

"I understand Ambassador Wei, you and your team will leave the embassy in 2 days. Report to the "Bakery" once you are done" replied the mysterious voice.

"I understand. All hail Chairman Cheng!"

Ambassador Wei and his team would leave the embassy 2 days later. They were never seen again. Although, 15 skeletons were somehow found inside the some of

the rooms of the local nuclear reactor and instead of reporting it to the US government, the company decided to sweep it under the floor and reported it as a "terrible

accident". Interestingly, some of the terminals had Mandarin written in them upon further investigation. It was decided that it was some sort of glitch and the whole

incident was dismissed by the public as some idiotic cult…

 **Location: Beijing, China, Unknown Location**

Sun Yu Wen sat bored in his room. An average man at best, Yu Wen had always never caught the eye of interest of anybody. Standing at just 5 feet and having no fat

or muscle, he never developed true skills for organizations such as the Crimson Dragoons or the Flying Tigers. He did have a sense of patriotic duty that seemed to

defy the usual amount of pride the average Chinese citizen had. This was abnormal as all of them had been indoctrinated with propaganda since birth. For that, he

had been contacted by the People's Liberation Army Air Force after basic training and had been assigned to the nuclear arms of the Air Force. He thought he was

going to be flying aircraft. Instead, he was assigned to the nuclear wing. Even though he always thought that the job was boring, it still was an important job since

the capitalist pigs may start their attack anytime. But for now, the nukes would still stay silent beneath hundreds of feet of rock. Yu Wen stared at his computer. For

some strange reason, China had decided to buy a few of those RobCo Unified Operating Systems. Although they were convenient, it seemed like it was a huge

security risk from the start as those "Yankees" were part of the United States Government and Chinese Intelligence had reported that they were building something

big for the United States Government called "Liberty Prime". When he reported this complaint, he was surprised that the RobCo Tech was actually stolen tech and that

RobCo had no knowledge of these computers as any backdoor access had been wiped by State Security. But then again, it wasn't his job to wipe treasonous and

capitalist propaganda. That job went to the Ministry of State Security. His job was to unleash the hounds of hell on the Americans. He went out to get his daily

rations, not realizing that state secrets were being taken…

 **Location: Las Vegas, Lucky 38 Casino, Penthouse Floor**

Mr. House looked on with satisfaction. The Chinese had stolen a few computers through some corporate espionage.

' _Those agents will have to be dealt with sooner rather than later. But for now, they have given me an extraordinary opportunity'_ Mr. House thought.

In fact, he had planned for the Chinese agents to take those operating systems. As the Chinese thought they had erased all backdoor access, they had started to use

those computers to communicate coded messages that gave good intelligence. The only networks in China could only be for military use and that was his key goal

right now. With the backdoor entrance that only he had access to, all coded messages would be at his fingertips and with that, the disarm codes for the missiles. With

current American Intelligence, not only had they not found any disarm codes but it was suspected that some of them had actually become double agents. That was

why Mr. House had decided to keep this little "operation" secret from the United States Government. Although he had significant influence among them, the U.S.

Government had a nasty tendency of being inefficient and disrupting other people's business. In a few minutes, a notification on his personal RobCo Unified Operating

System informed Mr. House that he had broken into the Chinese network. With his account, no trace of his activities would be found. Now, it was just a matter of

breaking the code and with that, breaking a part of China's death grip on Las Vegas…

 **Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. I suffered writer's block for a few days as I tried to keep the story realistic. Don't worry, I'll (read: attempt) to get a chapter out every week or so on Sunday. Now, the stage has been set and Mr. House will now start dealing with the nukes.**

 **As always, I am free to any and all criticism and I'll see you in the future.**

 **Oh yeah, wonder what Bethesda is trying to do?**


	4. Thin Ice

**March, 2066. T Minus 10 years 8 months to Judgment Day**

 **Location: RobCo HQ, Las Vegas**

Although he had a dispassionate view of the "capitalist pigs", Timmis Waine couldn't help being impressed by American ingenuity. The RobCo HQ was enormous, almost the size of the typical American military bases spread across the country. Dozens of people strolled in and out of doors to their assigned sector. The front lobby proudly displayed new RobCo tech that was on the market such as the new Mark 3 Protectrons that would be part of the new Washington DC Metro system; a prototype of sorts. But he knew that those inventions kept made people lazy and weak-minded like sheep. If there was to be technology, the Communist system for military and scientific use would be the way to go. With these thoughts in mind, he went up to the receptionist.

"Good morning Ms. Vallerie"

"Good morning Mr. Thomas. You have three in-box messages from your co-workers requesting to meet you. They are waiting in Room 212."

"Thanks Ms. Vallerie. Tell my co-workers that I'll be on my way and we'll continue on to our current business as of late. Tell me, how has the new targeting system my team has developed doing for the Protectrons?"

"The results have been sent to your mail box in your office. Have a nice day Mr. Thomas."

"You too, Ms. Vallerie"

With that, Timmis Waine started to walk towards his designated office. With the demand for new talent to supplement the losses from the New Plague, security wasn't thorough with their background checks. With his supposed background in computer science, Timmis Waine with the alternate name of Thomas Hads had been put on the top leading teams for the programming of all the new robots coming out of Rob-Co. If security had been thorough though, they would have actually found a man named Thomas Hads. They would have seen that Thomas Hads had once been a former employee of General Atomics and had been preparing to switch to RobCo for better pay. What they would not realize was that the real Thomas Hads had a knife in his back and was currently at the bottom of Lake Mead with a concrete cinder block attached to his feet. For nearly 4 months now, Timmis Waine had been masquerading as Thomas Hads. Without any family members or close associates, it was easy to act like Thomas Hads as no one had actually seen him behave. That provided the perfect cover to talk to "co-workers" on new "projects".

Timmis Waine stepped into Room 212 and was greeted with half a dozen people. One glance would arouse no suspicion at all. With the usual neckties and bowler hats, the people situated here were Caucasian and thus looked like what the public thought were "American Citizens" and not "Communist Spies". However, this batch of people were part of Dragon Squadron; the elite team consisting of double agents and spies from the Ministry of State Security. Although they had been initially selected for the attack on Hoover Dam, Chinese reports of a new "secret weapon" being developed by RobCo for the US Military seemed to have merit as those reports included deliveries of the experimental Fat Man Ordinance to RobCo HQ. That reason was why the team had been working at RobCo HQ for nearly 4 months now to uncover what was truly going on, and if the rumors were correct, to neutralize the threat before it was fully operational.

"You wouldn't just meet me here without checking for bugs, would you?" Timmis questioned.

The leader of Dragon Squadron replied.

"We did check for bugs, as usual. Now, all of us have heard some interesting rumors about some of the projects that have been going on here at RobCo. Those reports for those old Little-Boy Class mini-nukes have been confirmed. Multiple testimonies from "willing" high ranking employees have indicated that they have seen the nukes and the final nail in the coffin is the hacked footage my team has found. Show them, Liz."

With that, Liz brought the file card and inserted it into the RobCo Terminal in the room. With that, the video showed dozens of Little-Boy Class mini-nukes in secured military trucks driving into RobCo HQ. It seemed like the company itself was preparing for war.

Timmis Waine responded.

"For all intents and purposes, that confirms the reports. Now, what do we do about this weapon is now our responsibility. We could always sabotage the nukes, but those nukes are just part of the weapons system they have. We'll have to destroy the entire weapons system. Your team will start to follow the trace and locate pinpoint the nukes' destination. Once you have located the weapons system, remember your orders. Our first priority is to do as much damage as we can to the Americans. Don't do something stupid and reveal yourself. We have to do this properly and we must go back into the shadows of obscurity for our next mission. Any questions? No? Then let Operation Yangtze begin."

With that, Dragon Squadron and Timmis Waine parted ways and exited Room 212 with no incidents and leaks of the enemy spies on American Soil.

 **Location: Lucky 38 Casino, Penthouse Floor, Las Vegas**

' _I better move those nukes. Too much valuable men and material are at risk'_ Thought Mr. House.

The nukes in fact, were the provocative and glossy bait that would reveal any spies in RobCo but more importantly, divert attention away from the other orders that Mr. House had placed. Sure, the nukes were good, but they were far too volatile as of right now as reports from hacked RobCo terminals had indicated that "accidents" involving the mini-nukes had resulted in no remains to give back to loved ones. That was the reason why he had ordered them for the Liberty Prime Project as progress for that machine was going at a snail's pace. It would be a long time before there was enough power for the weapons system to actually carry the nukes. On the other hand, those weapons requests for the project had also given him access to high-grade military weapons to complete the project courtesy of the Federal Government. One of those weapon systems was actually going to be tested in the basement of the Lucky 38 right now. With a practiced stoic face, Mr. House stepped towards the elevator…

 **Location: Lucky 38 Casino, Basement, Las Vegas**

Bob Shorters anxiously waited for the arrival of Mr. House. The representative of Glastinghouse Incorporated, Bob Shorters was a diminutive man with a brown ironed suit and red tie. His glasses combined with his soft-spoken attitude didn't radiate any confidence. He was chosen not for his talking skills or for his charisma, but because Glastinghouse Incorporated was having a bad time with business. Many had predicted that Glastinghouse would fail as the research and technology that was used had not been making any profits. It was estimated that the company would go bankrupt within a year. That was the case until the Federal Government had taken an interest in the company's products such as lasers and had given additional funding. That was just 8 years ago. Now, Glastinghouse Incorporated was the leading producer and innovator in Military Grade Laser Technology. A meeting with Mr. House indicated the power the company now had. The elevator chimed and the man himself stepped out to greet Bob.

"I do hope that what you have in your inventory is valuable enough for me to spend valuable time to watch Mr. Shorters."

"Of course Mr. House, Glastinghouse Incorporated would never waster valuable time for trivial matters. This new weapon will be used in military patrols and civilian bots in no time!"

With that, Mr. Shorters directed Mr. House's attention to what appeared to be a normal Gatling gun. That notion was changed when the weapon started to spit out lasers in a very short period of time. In no time, the practice target combusted and turned into ash. Mr. Shorters started to explain.

"The laser produced by the G-25 Gatling laser rifle has been able to go through Kevlar armor with no troubles whatsoever at all ranges. It will give anybody great offensive and defensive capabilities at ranges up to 650 meters. Best of all, these Gatling lasers have been designed to use as little power for the most gain. This makes it cheap to operate and to use while having a higher kill rate than the rest of the competitors. All in all, a good weapon against anyone from criminals to soldiers. So what are your impressions of it?"

"In my honest opinion, your company has done a splendid job. This new "product" is perfect for the new Mark 4 Protectrons that my programmers and engineers are designing as we speak. I'll take 10 shipments right now for quality control. Once I have deemed the products satisfactory, I'll order another 5000 shipments. The Federal Government will cover the cost accordingly. I'll be meeting you in 5 days to complete our contract. We have much to discuss later on. Good-bye and good day to you."

"You too Mr. House."

With that, Bob Shorters walked towards the elevator and proceeded to exit the Luck 38 Casino. Mr. House continued to study the Glastinghouse Gatling Laser. Mr. Shorters may have revealed most of the qualities of the laser, but to Mr. House's trained eyes, there were additional strengths and also serious weaknesses. For example, judging by the hidden thermometer that was connected to the Gatling laser, the weapon overheated far too quickly for any meaningful impact on the battlefield. A new material was needed to allow the Gatling laser to fire continuously for the goal of 15 minutes. But for now, the Gatling laser would be perfect for the project; just not the Liberty Prime project that many wanted complete…

 **Location: Big Mountain Research Facility, Classified**

In the X-42 Robo-warfare facility, Dr. Menhauser looked triumphantly at his new creation. If one were to look at Menhauser, one would have thought he was a lumberjack with a stern face and a long black beard. The problem with that image was that he wore a white lab-coat and black-boots instead of the stereotypical blue jeans and overalls that one would have expected. The creation he had worked on seemed like an ordinary holodisk for whatever storage was needed; whenever it be a voice recording or a message for the workers to scrub off the blood stains that were in the cells at the Y-17 Medical Facility. Instead, this particular holodisk contained all the programming and code for an automated personality. A few weeks ago for whatever reason unknown to Dr. Menhauser, RobCo Industries sent a message via his own personal RobCo Terminal with this message:

 _To Dr. Menhauser,_

 _I have an important business endeavor that may interest you._

 _As of now, the Protectron Robots that RobCo Industries is producing currently are effective at what they do; defending private property against tresspassers. Unfortunately, they have a severe problem. Because my programmers had the priority of cost-effectiveness, the Protectrons do not have the programming to initiate more complex commands and as such, are inadequate against a determined and well-equipped enemy. Here is where you come in. I am asking you to create a holodisk containing programming for a superior personality matrix than the one I have. I cannot do it myself as I have no such experience in personality matrixes and far too much attention has been put onto my company by "Project Liberty Prime". They could become desperate enough if they heard about me making an automated personality matrix to cripple any progress that I have made. You, on the other hand, are probably one of the most secretive organizations in the US as Chinese intelligence has not indicated that they have found any place codenamed Bait. If you do complete this task, a select fund of 800 million dollars will be awarded. As proof of my intentions, 25% of it is already being sent to you via a disguised Nuka-Cola truck as you read this letter. The rest will be sent with a bonus of 100 million dollars when the task has been complete. In addition, a sample of 75 of the new robots will be delivered to you via a normal RobCo delivery truck in the near future. The exchange will happen when the new robots will be sent to you. I have the utmost confidence that you will be able to complete this task with the tools you have at your disposal. I will meet you at the exchange for the final demands._

 _From, Mr. House, CEO of RobCo Industries._

As if on cue, Dr Menhauser saw from the corner of his eye the supposed Nuka-Cola Truck exiting the tunnel that was the only entrance into Big Mountain besides the railroad. If it were true, this funding would easily be able to give Big Mountain significant breathing space. Although Big Mountain was considered the leader in many fields of science including force field technology, budget cuts in the US tax system had forced Big Mountain to pander to third party companies by exchanging technology for funding. It wouldn't be the first time Big Mountain had done it, but this endeavor could fund the Big Mountain for a good few decades. It would also give the Big Mountain a new toy to experiment, primarily for Dr. Frielander. And so, he began his work. Although this was a paid job, creating automated personality matrixes was one of, if not the best hobbies Dr. Menhauser had. If he wanted a guard personality matrix, he could create even better; personality matrixes so complex that they could even have the programming of a soldier! And so he created it. For nearly 3 weeks, he toiled at his work. Neglecting and ignoring the drills working on the X-42 Robo-Scorpions down below, he finally completed the diagnostic checks 4 weeks after he had received the letter. In front of him now was that achievement. With shaking hands, Dr. Menhauser inserted the holodisk into the RobCo Terminal. Cartoonish pictures of a Policeman and a Soldier chomping on a cigar appeared on the screen.

' _Stop, you are trespassing on private property. You have 5 seconds to leave immediately. Lethal force will be used."_ An authoritative and robotic voice emitted from the terminal.

"Ah yes, this should fit Mr. House's requirements nicely. Say, a Mentat would be nice right now for my hard work." Said Dr. Menhauser.

With that, Dr. Menhauser took the holodisk and proceeded to have his daily Mentat break while being unaware of the magnitude of power he had just created in the centuries to come.

 **Location: Lucky 38 Casino, Penthouse Floor, Las Vegas**

With a rare triumphant smile, Mr. House looked at his RobCo Terminal. On it, the disarm codes for the Ying Ji Model 2045 ICBMs and the Long-Mao Model 2052 ICBMs were at his fingertips. A number code that seemed to change every 2 minutes, it would have seemed nonsensical to those who did not know its true purpose. Unfortunately for the rest of the United States right now, the disarm codes for the missiles aimed at them were out of reach for now and would have to be put as a second priority. Chinese Internal Security was starting one of its regular "Loyalty" testing phases throughout the entire Chinese network. Although Mr. House was confident that no one would be able to track his unauthorized signal, an unknown variable in the equation could easily undo careful and methodical espionage. As such, the safety of the rest of the United States would have to be put on hold for the moment. Right now, the report he was getting was encouraging. If the code system did not change in the near future, Las Vegas would be protected against any of the nuclear missiles for the next 10 years. Now, it was a matter of getting rid of the bomber squadrons on standby alert to drop their ordinances. With fanatical devotion to the state, it would be hard to take them all out as the Chinese preferred quantity as a weapon. Just one thermal-nuclear bomb was needed to wipe Las Vegas off the face of the United States. No, brute force would not do. Cunning and intelligence would win this battle; something Mr. House had over many people. With a sip of water, Mr. House started to calculate the probability of success of his latest plan. If it did work (a probability of 86.5% chance didn't hurt), the bombers would not be able to even launch into the air with a power that no military man (Chinese or American) never wanted to deal with: the Bureaucracy…

 **Location: Poseidon Oil Rig, Pacific Ocean**

In the public eye, the Poseidon Oil Rigs that were still operational were still bringing in oil. Outside of it however, many of the Oil Rigs were already being converted into something else entirely. Inside, the aptly named Situation Room looked just like the real room in the White House. Currently, 5 seats were filled and a discussion was taking place.

"You sure you haven't gotten any confirmation from him?"

"Affirmative, he hasn't responded in any way to our warnings or our orders to proceed to this location."

"Could be possible that he has cold feet right now."

"If that's true, than nothing will stop him from leaking this to the public."

"We can't afford it, the public blowback and panic would collapse the fragile economy and organization we have right now. If government officials are being reported going to secret locations and preparing for the worse, than those doomsayers will have merit."

"What do we do?"

"Deploy the special units. Get him to join us here or tie up the loose end."

"He's the CEO of a major company, we can't just off him like the usual."

"Arrange an accident of some sorts if worse comes to worse. He's far too dangerous and more importantly, far too unpredictable on his own with that sort of influence and power. I want him in this room or at the bottom of Lake Mead in at least a year. This mission will have no traces back to us, got it?"

"I'll call it in. Consider it done."

With that, the 5 people left the room with the soon-to-be infamous Enclave Symbol hanging above their heads…

 **Author's Note**

 **And with that, that concludes Chapter 4 of Preparations of the Apocalypse!  
**

 **In short, real life got in the way of the upload schedule I planned last chapter. I've decided to do infrequent uploads to this story as it takes some time for me to get the story going. Also, I'll be doing revisions on the previous Chapters to make it more realistic and formatted better. I'll see you in the next Chapter and hope to live another day in the Wasteland.**

 **-Great Big World**


	5. The Wildcard Taken Care Of

**December, 2067. T-minus 9 years 11 months to Judgment Day**

 **Location: Poseidon Oil Drill 45A, Anchorage, Alaska**

"Position has been secured. Awaiting orders."

"Excellent. Operation Phoenix is a go. Eliminate all hostiles and witnesses."

"Understood sir, Squad 6 Leader out."

With that, the squad leader turned off the portable radio. To the other employees at Poseidon Oil Drill 45A, his name was Solomon Jordan. A man of 6'1, his Caucasian skin like so many others did not indicate a Chinese Affiliation. That would be a massive miscalculation on the doubters however.

With a flick of a switch, the distinct drill alarm rang. With the sound, various drill employees took out their Shanxi Type 17 pistols and started to gun down those who were not on the "Friendlies" List.

As the sound of gunfire rang throughout the facility, Solomon exited the Supervisor Office. The other men that had occupied the space already had .45 ACP lead through their craniums.

Outside the Supervisor Building, Solomon saw many of his agents dragging the carcasses of the workers. All in all, the facility was under the control of Communist China. Now, it was just a matter of the reinforcements pushing the Americans back.

 **Location: 12,000 feet above Anchorage, Alaska**

"Alright men, this is what you have been training for the past 5 years. Once we have landed, the mountains, communication centers, military bases will be subdued quickly. Shoot to kill and leave no prisoners. Understand? Good, then by all means, let the Hand of Chairman Chang guide us to victory!"

Gao Bing listened to the lieutenant and checked his AK-47 again. All he wanted to do all those years ago was just to escape the village and the devastating famine. Instead, He was to be part of the vanguard battalion so that the main forces would have no problems whatsoever.

Even though the spies had taken control of the oil fields and had sabotaged multiple military bases, the anti-aircraft cannons that were still operational had already torn apart 5 of the aircraft. His confidence was not helped by how little food and water they had been provided for the harsh Alaskan Winter. Sure, they had been given liberal amounts of 7.62×39mm ammo for a few months at least but 5 days' worth of food and water was not enough for what would be at least an estimated 10 year war in his mind. With that, another downed aircraft exploding interrupted his thoughts and Gao Bing checked his parachute one last time.

A few seconds later, the signal turned green.

"Go, go, go, go!" yelled the lieutenant.

Gao Bing jumped and proceeded to the nearby mountains with trained ease. Flak peppered the sky like a blight. Occasionally, the shrapnel exploded near someone and Gao Bing saw as the person bleed to death with blood pouring out of what were limbs before.

As he got closer to the ground, tracer fire started to reach the troops. Even though many of the cannons and machine guns had been taken out of action by commando squadrons, the ones that were still operational carved a bloody trail in the sky.

Tracer fire went through troops like butter. Legs, arms, and the torsos were torn apart into barely recognizable shapes. Many parachutes were limp by the 1000 feet mark. Gao Bing grimaced as he landed on the snow.

At least those who did not survive would supply the living. As Gao Bing viewed the city down below him, gunfire was still very prevalent to the human ear. It would be prevalent for another 10 years…

 **Location: Pentagon, War Room**

"What's the overall situation we have right now?!" demanded the President.

"Overall, we are in serious trouble. We may have prepared our defenses for nearly 5 years now, but it seems as though those defenses were bypassed long ago. Reports coming in have indicated Chinese soldiers striking at military installations and then disappearing without any trace of infrared scanning had nothing on them. They managed to cripple most of our missile and anti-aircraft defenses. The few aircraft that we had at the bases have been destroyed as well. Most importantly, they absolutely decimated our radar installations without any trouble. That made the rest of our weapon systems that were still operational rely only on sight for Chinese are now using paratroopers to secure the mountains as we speak. With those conditions, the worst is still to come. Our satellites and spies have spotted multiple ships leaving Chinese ports carrying troops. We're assuming that these are the heavy troopers that will fortify and advance into Alaska." answered the Secretary of Defense.

"Then, what do we have as of right now?"

"Right now, most of our forces on the Alaskan Front have been decimated and are in full rout. Trying to resupply them will be a disaster in the making. Radios have indicated that shipping in the North Pacific is being crippled by Chinese submarines and the airspace around Alaska right now is under the control of the Chinese. We may be able to send in troops from the West Coast, but that'll take at least 5 months for us to prepare: long enough for them to fortify Alaska if they're smart." said the 4 star General.

"Christ… start the draft. We'll need as many soldiers we can get and contact the Canadian Ambassador. I need his country to start opening those supply lines. "

"Understood Mr. President." replied the Secretary of Defense.

 **Location: West Tek Research Facility, Classified**

"This is Dr. Karts of the West Tek. Research of the Power Armor units has yielded promising results. Test Subjects under fire from multiple weapons such as the 10mm pistol to the .50 caliber Anti-materiel rifle have been able to live. The ability to move relatively quickly gave Test Subjects a success rate increase of nearly 50% compared to control units. Unfortunately, flaws have emerged including a susceptibility to electronic weapons, riveted steel plates falling off after a short time under pressure, exposed joints that is gives projectile weapons a target, and inefficient power use. We will continue research as of this date."

As Dr. Karts finished the holotape recording, he sighed a breath of relief. A lab coat and a t-shirt was all he needed to stay warm. When he was relaxed, Dr. Karts was a good friend to have as his attitude and jokes could calm down even the most anxious. When he was angry though, Mr. Hyde broke through. His manner of speech to those he viewed as incompetent and failed at their tasks could feel the underlying tone of violence in his cold speeches. Although a bit chubby, his demeanor, glasses, and most importantly, his eyes warned anybody that he was not a person to be trifled with lest they wanted to "disappear": a fate that had happened to many "willing" test subjects .

He quickly looked up from the holotape to observe the testing room. Already, the next test group was about to begin. Comprised of hardened criminals and political dissidents from the States and annexed Mexico, all of them had been given special treatment so that they would be strong enough to operate power armor. They either had the choice of rotting in prison or leaving with a registration to the National Criminal List as a precaution. To prevent a riot, explosive collars had been put on when they were asleep the day before the experiment. A demonstration of they did put them in line quickly. Now, they were the latest to face what many of the scientists dubbed "Omaha".

True to its nickname, the obstacle course began with murky waters that would make moving a challenge and drowning a real danger. Next, the beaches were covered in Czech hedgehogs that would be able to provide cover from the hills in front. There, the simulation started to differentiate itself from the real battle. Instead of MG 42s or MG 34s, the defenders (played by Mr. Handys) would be equipped with weapons ranging from 10 mm pistols to Laser Gatling guns. A few grenades had also been given to the Mr. Handys as well.

To obtain their freedom, the prisoners would have to advance from the murky waters up towards the beach without getting ripped apart from defenders up top. Once at the base of the hill, the attackers had two options. They could either use the Bangalore torpedoes to blow holes into the barbed wire or try to wade through it. Once they had broken thorough, it was a matter of getting to the top of the mountain to achiever their freedom while simultaneously not getting cut down by the still active defenders. That was what the prisoners had been told. In reality, none of them were expected to survive. The weaponry not put into the list included weapons such as pulse grenades, .50 caliber Anti-materiel rifles, and gauss rifles. They were just guinea pigs so that new weaknesses in the armor could be identified and fixed.

As the test subjects cautiously approached the entrance, the distinct clicking sound of bullets being fed into chambers was heard by the Scientists above. Test Group 5H was about to start the simulation. ..

 **Location: Las Vegas, Lucky 38 Casino, Penthouse Floor**

Mr. House looked in displeasure at what he was seeing on his personal terminal. Crates that were being stored in a HertzWare Incorporated were apparently being "checked" for any illegal contraband that would "aid" the Chinese. According to all the hidden cameras, these people had come from the Department of Commerce and seemed like the real deal. They wore the correct uniforms, had official-looking IDs and had the attitude of those who knew what they were doing. The workers didn't know any better and had let them into the facility.

Problem was, Mr. House had specifically enticed the director of that department to turn a blind eye towards his "consumer items". He could count to trust the man in charge as compromising information on the fool was just a click away to all major newspapers. That left only one logical explanation. It was an inevitability that 3rd party influences would try to derail him. He just wished they had had the courtesy of doing it when he was almost ready.

HertzWare Incorporated was one of the new companies that had been bought up by RobCo Industries in recent years. Examples included MetalWorks Forges, Bob's Builders Incorporated, and Casino Royale LLC. All of these companies produced mundane items such as radios for HertzWare, steel girders for MetalWorks Forges, and card packs from Casino Royale. In previous years, these purchases were seen by the US Government and were even approved sometimes.

As the years went by however, Mr. House had started to suspect that a special group was taking an interest in his affairs, and not in a good way. There were two options. Either it was the Chinese, or it was the "Special Interests" Group he had rejected many moons ago. Although he had the invitation had been in pocket, the risks were far too high for what he was planning. Just like the Mafia, you never left the Enclave unless you were in a coffin. Additionally, he would be giving up far too much for far too little. The chance to help humanity get back on its feet for centuries was more tempting than drinking champagne in some remote bunker for a couple of decades.

As he watched the intruders, Robert House breathed a sigh of relief. Just a few hours ago, a convoy of trucks had just exited the facility carrying radios and electronic equipment for fixed radar sets. That was supposedly what the trucks were carrying. In reality, the "radar sets" were parts for portable electronic jamming sets. If they had knowledge of that discovery, all his other purchases were at risk and this whole plan could collapse on him.

He would deal with them later. Right now, his temporary primary goal was about to be completed. …

 **Location: Beijing, China, Unknown Location**

To the public, Bomber Command represented the pinnacle of Chinese Military Might: capable of striking anywhere on the planet with the might of the atom. The reality couldn't be farther from the propaganda. True, Bomber Command _once_ maintained air superiority over the entirety of South-East Asia. Once, being the key word. With the limited fuel going towards ground forces and the Rocket Brigades, Bomber Command had to reduce its arsenal.

What was once nearly 500 squadrons consisting of Type 500 Bombers capable of carrying 70,000 lbs of bomb load now was a paltry collection of 250 aircraft. Sure, they could still strike anywhere and were highly effective with conventional bomb loads. But they were only warranted for high-priority targets. HQ reflected this neglect as well.

Buried underneath the sprawling city, HQ had devolved into a musky and rusted labyrinth. Lighting tended to malfunction during the winter season with entire sections going without power for a few days. The personnel that manned Bomber Command were a skeleton crew. Temperatures were sweltering as the air conditioning had been put off for energy conservation. In all honesty, many in the political circles considered Bomber Command to be a wasteful organization and had considered dissolving the entire organization so that more resources could be diverted to the other branches.

The two reasons why the organization was kept were that the remaining squadrons could still rain heavy ordinance from the Stratopause; out of the range of American Interceptors and SAMs and for propaganda usage. The leveled cities of Hanoi and Phnom Penh were more than enough for the Americans to be on their guard. The wasted time and resources of multiple interceptors and surface to air missiles had cost the United States dearly and had set them back by nearly a decade on many of their other projects.

As such, the facility still functioned. However, enthusiasm was at an all-time low as the crews figured that the day they could actually use their aircraft was when Armageddon happened. The result: no one complained when 3 squadrons were given new coordinates from High Command. Many in assumed that Las Vegas was just not important enough for the remaining bombers.

If anyone had paid attention however, there had been no official announcement from High Command about 3 squadrons being redirected from Las Vegas; it was only a message sent by RobCo Terminal with Administrator Status. If anyone had gotten curious however, an automatic message coming from High Command would confirm the order. That order was merely just an automated program to throw off suspicion. Further, if anyone actually bothered to visit those sites, the crop fields would be barren and devoid of any actual military value.

Interestingly though, the land would have shown on the records that it had been bought by RobCo Industries for "testing" purposes. By the time anyone figured it was fake, it would be too late. While the American Bureaucracy was bad, it was well-oiled compared to the Chinese Bureaucracy. Bills that should have taken a few days at best to pass dragged on in committees for years to come.

An investigation for target changes for striking what was essentially a money trap for tourists wasn't very high on anyone's list. Besides, what could residents of the city even do? 77 missiles were already locked onto the city and it would have to take a genius for someone to take them all out…

 **Author's Note: (*Cue Hello Darkness My Old Friend*)**

 **To everyone who has been waiting, I do truly apologize. School has made writing Fanfiction a bit of a challenge and it took me some time to create a more realistic plotline than the one I originally planned to use. I'm hoping that the next chapter will be up in the next 2 weeks or so.**

 **On the off note, if anyone sees any major grammatical errors, let me know in the comment sections as grammatical errors for me is one of my pet peeves. I may have missed some after the double checks I have made.**

 **Enough with the rambling! I'll see you in the next chapter and remember, The House Always Wins.**

 **-Great Big World**


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